Mary felt truly blessed. Ever since she announced her pregnancy, seven year old Sammy had become very protective over her. The little boy would do anything for his mother, to save her from any possible strain or stress. This included collecting the laundry; to washing and drying dishes, and he would even help her up and down the stairs, in case she fell over.
One Sunday afternoon in late November, Mary was about to rise up from the couch, when Sammy rushed to the scene.
"Let me help you, Mom," insisted the seven year old. "Take my hand."
Mary smiled at her young son, and stroked his floppy dark brown hair. The little boy was more like his father than Mary had realised. Both John and Sammy worried far too much for their own good, to the point it caused them mental strain.
"It's alright, honey," she said, gently. "I'm fine. You worry too much."
Sammy cuddled into his mother's side. His small hand gently pressed on her stomach, trying to detect any sensation of his unborn sibling, unaware that it was far too soon for any possible movement from the foetus.
"I want just you to be safe, Mom, " remarked the seven year old. "Dean says we need to look after you and the baby. We don't want the baby to get hurt. Dean says that's what big brother's do."
Mary grinned, her whole face glowing with pride.
"Well, if that's the case, then you're gonna be a wonderful big brother, Sammy" beamed Mary, as she kneels down to her little boy's level. "This baby is gonna be so lucky to have you and Dean. I know you will help me and your Dad when the baby arrives."
Sammy then aided his mother upstairs to the master bedroom, in order to rest.
"Mom, if the baby is a boy, can we call him Raphael or Michelangelo," said the little boy, with a big smile on his face. "I really like those names."
Mary chuckled, as she gently sat down on the bed, and took hold of her son's hands.
"We can't call your baby brother after one of the Ninja Turtles, Sammy," she said, in a very gentle tone. "Anyway, the baby could be a girl, and you might end up with a little sister."
Sammy pondered for a moment, his hands on his hips.
"Well, I guess that might happen, but Dean says the baby will definitely be a boy" replied the seven year old.
Mary rolled her eyes slightly, but still smiling at her son.
"All that matters, is that the baby is healthy, right?" she said.
Sammy nodded enthusiastically.
"Oh, of course," he remarked. "Don't worry, Mom, we'll look after the baby."
The tiny foetus was barely developed, and had no defining features that identified their gender, but Mary knew something. The baby was loved. The baby was protected.
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